


Winchester

by ItsAces_Alex (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: John Winchester is Stiles Stilinski's Parent, M/M, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is a Winchester (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22350979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ItsAces_Alex
Summary: Sam and Dean hit the road when Bobby says there are werewolves in Beacon Hills, but they bite off more than they can chew when they come face to face with Stiles, a fiery sarcastic teenager who sees through their aliases like glass and does everything he can to hinder their 'investigation'.But werewolves aren't the Winchester's only problem. Now they're faced with a Kanima, and discover news about Stiles that all three of them wished never came to light.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 33
Kudos: 380





	1. Chapter 1

Scott and Stiles had hunkered down in the living room, talking quietly between the two about Jackson. It had been two weeks of dealing with the Kanima before everyone found out it was Jackson, and now they had to find a way to save him; much to Stiles' annoyance.  
Jackson was a dick, Stiles didn't really care if he survived or not, he only cared about his friends and the people Jackson killed.  
A knock at the front door stopped all talk of Kanima, the two teenage boys looking up from the notebook covered in scribbles and notes. Neither one moved to get the door.  
"Don't all get up at once," Noah said sarcastically, walking towards the door from the kitchen. Stiles ducked his head, but watched his dad as he opened the front door.  
"Bobby, good to see you," Noah grinned. Stiles relaxed a bit, seeing Bobby singer step inside. Scott closed the notebook, sticking it into his book bag.  
"Good to see you to," Bobby said. Bobby Singer had been around since Stiles could remember. He visited whenever he could, to check up on the Stilinski men or talk with Noah.  
Noah had expressed on multiple occasions how much he didn't like Bobby coming around, but never told Stiles why. It drove him crazy not being able to figure it out.  
"Hey, Bobby," Stiles greeted, sending an awkward wave.  
"How are you, Stiles?" Bobby asked, his lips disappearing into his mustache as he smiled.  
"Oh, you know," Stiles shrugged. "School sucks, dad's working a murder case, theres a city wide curfew, oh, and I got my license."  
Bobby just huffed an amused laugh. Stiles tapped the end of his pen against the coffee table, hoping the two would leave so Scott and him could continue talking.  
"Nice to see you, Scott," Bobby said, turning his attention to the dark haired teenager.  
"You too," Scott smiled tight lipped.  
There was an awkward beat of silence before Noah lead Bobby back into the kitchen. Stiles stayed still until they were gone before turning to Scott.  
"Can you hear what they're saying? Stiled asked softly. Scott sighed before lowering his head. Stiled bit at his nails, forcing himself to stay quiet as Scott listened.  
"Something about trouble," Scott said with a frown. "Bobby said someone is coming to help."  
"You don't think they're talking about Jackson, do you?" Stiles asked.  
"I don't know, they're being really quiet, I can't hear what all they're saying," Scott said, sighing heavily. "I'll call Derek in the morning. Maybe he'll be able to help."  
"Okay, good idea."  
*-*  
Bobby left later that night, a couple hours after Scott took off. Stiles asked questions to try and get answers as to who was coming and that he and Noah had been talking about, but he didn't get anything out of either of them.  
All Stiles knew was that Noah seemed even more on edge than before. Whatever they had talked about this time didn't sit well with the sheriff.  
Thd following morning, Noah left for work. It was Saturday, so no school. Stiles texted Scott, wondering where they were going to meet and got in his jeep.  
He met up with Derek and Scott at the old Hale house, the only place no one would stumble upon them.  
"So what's the plan?" Stiles asked, jumping out of the jeep and slamming the door shut.  
"Well, we were thinking," Scott started. "We still don't know how to change Jackson back, but we can hold him until we do."  
"You mean, kidnap Jackson?" Stiles asked. Scott nodded. "And hold him where? We don't know how strong he is, and theres no way our parents aren't gonna notice if we chain him up in our basements."  
"We can chain him up here," Scott said, nodding to the burned down house. Stiles gave him a look before turning to Derek.  
"I think we should just kill him and get this over with," Derek sighed, arms folded over his chest. Stiles shot a hand out to him, turning to Scott.  
"I'm with Derek on this one, Scott," Stiles said. "We don't even know if we can change him back!"  
"We have to try!" Scott defended. "We can't just kill Jackson!"  
"I can," Derek commented, still reserved and brooding.  
"This was your fault to begin with," Scott snapped, glaring at Derek. "If you hadn't bitten him he wouldn't be a kanima!"  
"How was I supposed to know he'd turn into that?" Derek growled. Stiles took this as his queue to step in.  
"Hey, hey, no dog fights," Stiles said, sliding in between the two werewolves. Derek glared down at Stiles and Stiles quickly took a step back, nearly backing into Scott.  
"I mean," Stiles took a step to the side. "Let's work together on this."  
When neither wolf said anything Stiles continued. "We do Scott's plan-" Derek frowned more than he was before. "-and if we can't find the cure, then you can kill him."  
"No, Stiles-" Scott argued.  
"Fine," Derek agreed.  
"What? Derek we can't-"  
"You have a week to find a cure," Derek interrupted again. "If you can't find it he dies."  
*-*  
"How far out are we?" Sam asked, sitting in the seat beside Dean, his knees pressing into the dash board. They'd driven from Arazona to North California.  
"Just another half hour I think," Dean said, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.  
Bobby had called them yesterday about a werewolf pack in Beacon Falls. There were hunters already there, but they were having a hard time tracking these werewolves down. Bobby thought the boys would be able to help.  
"And Bobby said he was gonna meet us there?" Sam asked again, riffling through the box of IDs in his lap.  
"That's what he said," Dean hummed. Sam pulled out two FBI badges, setting them on the bench between the boys.  
When they reached Beacon Hills, the first thing they did was find a hotel. There was only one in town. Dean paid for the room while Sam waited in the car.  
"This should be a quick job," Dean said. Sam nodded in agreement, the two dropping their bags onto the beds. They got dressed in their suit and ties before driving over to the sheriff station.  
It was a small station, maybe 6 deputies in total. Dean smiled friendly at the woman behind the desk, pulling out his badge. Sam did the same, his smile thin and uncomfortable looking.  
"Hi, I'm special agent Ford," Dean greeted, tucking his badge back into the breast pocket of his coat. "This is my partner, special agent Hamill. We're with the FBI."  
Before the woman could speak, another voice drew their attention.  
"I know," the sheriff said from the left. "Bobby told me you were coming."  
Sam blinked a bit. Bobby left out the part about the sheriff knowing who they were. "Come with me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a trailer for this book up on YouTube! You can also find it on my Tumblr @super-wolf-sterek!

Stiles decided to go to the station after they'd gotten Jackson to the Halw house. No one would look there. Derek made sure everyone in Beacon Hills thought that place was haunted. Stiles wondered if it actually was.  
He greeted officer Griffin with a friendly hello and an exchange of small talk before he asked for his dad. The whole station was used to Stiles coming by, he was basically an honorary deputy, without all the cool perks. Being a single father, Noah had to being Stiles along to work. Usually it was sitting in the car for hours to catch speeders, or sitting around the station while Noah worked on paperwork. Now that Stiles was older, he came on his own whenever he wanted.  
"The sheriff is talking with a couple of guys from the FBI," Griffin said, shaking her head. Stiles' eyes widened.  
"The FBI? Like, special agent, official badge flip and everything?"  
Griffin chuckled. Most deputies and even his teachers knew Stiles was a spazz when it came to just about anything.  
Before the conversation could continue, the door to Noah's office opened. Stiles looked over to see two tall men in blue suits and matching ties stepped out. They spoke softly, shaking Noah's hand, all nodding once and smiling professionally.  
They all made their way to the front door. Stiles eyed the two as they came closer. One had short blonde hair and a sharp jawline, he looked mean and determined. But the other one had shaggy hair, was a foot taller than the short haired man and looked uncomfortable, like he wanted out as soon as possible. Stiles narrowed his eyes.  
"Stiles, what are you doing here?" Noah asked, seeing Stiles by the receptionist desk. The two FBI agents stopped to look Stiles over.  
"Oh, you know, just wanted to see how my favorite dad is doing," Stiles lied, cursing himself. He could never pull off anything on the spot. Noah knew it, but usually just ignored it. Maybe that was why Stiles thought he could.  
Noah gave Stiles a strange look, one he got many times. Stiles' shoulders dropped just a fraction.  
"This is my son, Stiles," Noah said, opting to ignore Stiles' behavior.  
"Nice to meet you," the taller one smiled, holding out a hand. Stiles took it. "I'm special agent Hamill."  
Stiles quirked an eyebrow, ready to throw in a Star Wars pun when Noah shot him a look that said he's get an earful if he did. Stiles decided to just smile back before turning to the short haired one.  
"Special agent Ford," he greeted. Stiles tilted his head, opening his mouth to say something.  
"S-tiles," he said, elongating the s, shaking his hand after a moment.  
Noah took this opportunity to step in, giving Stiles a knowing look. "Special agents Ford and Hamill are going to be staying for a while while working on a case. I don't want you getting in their way, understood?"  
Ford raised an amused eyebrow. Stiles acted offended. "When do I ever get in the way of official business?" He asked.  
"You-"  
"You know what," Stiles interrupted, pointing a finger at Noah. "Don't answer that."  
Ford and Hamill excused themselves, Noah heading back to his office after a final farewell and a threat to Stiles.  
Stiles waited until Noah was far enough away before running out of the station after the two FBI agents.  
"Hey," he called, jumping down the three stairs. The two men stopped their walk to the slick black Impala, turning to look at Stiles, who jogged over to them.  
"You got a business card?" He asked. He realized right after asking how weird that was and quickly followed it up with a grin. "In case I see anything, I know everything that goes on in this town."  
"Everything?" The long haired one asked. Stiles puffed out his chest.  
"I'm related to the sheriff," he said, as if that explained it. Ford reached into his coat pocket, pulling out an official looking business card. It had the FBI logo and everything.  
"My number is on the back," he said.  
Stiles turned it over, seeing the phone number scrawled out in black pen.  
"Awesome, thanks dude."  
He took off before they could say anything else. He pocketed the card as he got into his jeep.  
Sam and Dean watched in befuddlement as the teenager left the parking lot.  
"What a weird kid," Sam commented, the two getting in the Impala to head to the hotel.  
"We've seen weirder," Dean reminded, starting the engine and backing out of the parking spot. "If he really knows as much as he claims, he might know about the pack."  
*-*  
Stiles parked the jeep on the road just outside of town, pulling the business card out of his pocket and squinting at it. Stiles had seen FBI before, hell, Scott's dad was FBI. Whoever those two were, they weren't FBI.  
He grabbed his phone from the seat beside him, typing in the official looking number on the front of the card.  
The phone rang. Stiles impatiently tapped the card against the steering wheel.  
"Willis, FBI."  
Stiles halted, about to speak. That voice was familiar. "Hello?"  
"Uh, yeah, hi-" Stiles cleared his throat, lowering his voice a bit and sitting up straighter. "Hey, uh, who- who is this?"  
Stiles outwardly cringed. He wasn't good on the spot.  
"Who is this? How did you get this number?"  
Stiles quickly ended the call, tossing his phone into the seat beside him and staring at it with baited breath, afraid it would ring again.  
After a second he let out a breath and started his car, heading back towards the Hale house. Stiles was too deep in his thoughts, and didn't realize he was at the Hale house until something jumped on the hood of his car.  
"Oh, God!" He yelped, eyes wide and arms up. The kanima glared at him through the window, tail swaying back and forth. It took off just as Derek and Scott ran out, both sporting claws and fangs.  
Stiles gripped at his chest, as if he could slow his heart rate down. He stumbled out of the jeep, staggering over to the front as Scott and Derek chased the kanima.  
They stopped at the treeline, Derek cursing loudly and punching the tree beside him. Stiles jumped when the wood splintered.  
"What happened?" Stiles demanded. He had only been gone two hours at most!  
"Ask Scott!" Derek snapped, teeth and claws gone.  
"What? Me?" Scott demanded. "You were on watch!"  
"It doesn't matter who's fault it is," Stiles said with a shake of his head. "What are we gonna do now?"  
"Now I'm going to kill it," Derek said with finality.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already check out the book trailer on my Tumblr @super-wolf-sterek!

Stiles tapped his long bony fingers against the countertop, chewing on his cheek as he waited for Noah to walk into the house. He had heard him pull in not long ago.  
When the door finally opened, Stiles nearly rushed to greet him, but thought it might be suspicious. He counted to ten before controlling his pace to a casual walk.  
"Hey, dad," he greeted, watching Noah unlace his boots at the door.  
"Hey," Noah greeted back, kicking his boots off and setting them to the side.  
"I had a question," Stiles pressed a little. He followed Noah into the kitchen, leaning against the countertop like he had been doing a minute ago.  
"I have an answer," Noah countered. Stiles rolled his eyes and huffed. Noah thought he was being funny, but he said it more times than Stiles could count.  
"Just, out of curiosity," Stiles rolled his shoulder in an effort to act nonchalant. "What is it that Bobby does?"  
Noah gave Stiles a look, as if trying to figure out why Stiles would want to know before he sighed and shrugged.  
"He's a mechanic over in Sioux Falls," Noah supplied.  
"How'd you two meet?" Stiles asked, pushing a little more. He needed to know what was going on. Noah raised an eyebrow at Stiles but answered anyway.  
"He sold me the jeep," he said. "What's this all about? You've never been interested in Bobby before."  
Noah was right. Aside from what Noah had told Stiles voluntarily, Stiles never asked.  
"I was just curious. Him visiting the other night made me wonder," Stiles lied.  
His phone vibrated in his pocket, ending any further questions. Stiles pulled the phone out and read the text quickly.  
Still cant find Jackson.  
Stiles bit his cheek.  
"Everything alright?" Noah asked, seeing the mood change. Stiles looked up, putting on a smile and nodded.  
"All good," he reassured. "I'm tired, I think I'm gonna call it a night."  
"Its 8 o'clock," Noah said with a furrow of his brows. Stiles looked over at the stove clock and tried to think up some excuse.  
"Its been a long day," he said finally, letting his arm fall to his thigh with a soft thud.  
Noah just rolled his eyes with a surprised "okay," signaling Noah had bought it. Stiles left the kitchen, making his way to his room.  
He had too much to worry about. There was the kanima, obviously. And Derek, now these fake FBI agents and Bobby. He didn't know which one he needed to worry about more.  
He sat in bed for a solid ten minutes before he grabbed the card from his pocket again. Maybe if he confronted the two, they'd tell him what they were actually doing. That would definitely help figure out what he had to do next.  
"Special agent Ford," the voice spoke, picking up after the third ring.  
"Hey, this is- this is Stiles, the sheriff's son?" Stiles winced, licking his lower lip.  
"Hey, everything alright?" Ford asked.  
"Yeah, uh, I was, wondering," Stiles' tapping got a little slower. "I had some questions, and I was wondering if you guys would meet me somewhere tomorrow? You know, to answer them."  
There was silence at the other end, it made Stiles' skin crawl waiting.  
"Sure, kid," Ford said. Stiles let out a breath. "We're at the hotel, feel free to stop by."  
"Great, awesome," Stiles leaned back in the chair he had sat in. He hung up without another word, texting Scott quickly.  
Gonna talk to FBI, see why they're here. Text when you find Jackson.  
*-*  
Stiles had snuck out of the house a little after Noah left for work, carrying a small can of pepper spray in his pocket just in case. He contemplated bringing the bat, but decided against it on account that that would look super strange if Stiles just carried the bat around.  
He made it to the hotel, parking a little bit away from the Impala and took a couple breaths before getting out. He walked up to the door labeled 115 and knocked.  
He waited a minute before the door was pulled open. Ford stood behind it partially. Stiles stepped inside, letting Ford close the door behind him.  
Stiles didn't miss Hamill putting something down under a coat draped over the bed. He glanced back at Ford to see Ford putting a gun down in his duffle bag. Shit, Stiles thought. This was a bad idea.  
"Take a seat," Hamill nodded for the wooden chair beside him. The two fake FBI agents sat on each bed, leaning forward with their elbows on their knees. Stiles dropped into the seat. He had come up with what he wanted to say, so he decided the best way was to jump right in.  
"You're not real FBI agents are you?"  
Hamill looked a bit taken aback, confirming Stiles suspicions. Ford just raised an eyebrow.  
"What makes you think we're not?" Ford asked.  
"Well, for starters the Impala outside. It's not government issued," Stiles said, pointing a hand to the door.  
"We're undercover," Ford countered.  
"You openly stated you were FBI to a teenager," Stiles shot back. "And for second, you don't even look like FBI."  
"How do you know what the FBI look like?" Hamill spoke up.  
"My friend's dad is FBI," Stiles said. "That haircut is against regulation."  
Ford shot an almost amused look at Hamill, who's brows were furrowed.  
"And what kind of names are Ford and Hamill?" Stiles added. "Anyone who's even remotely cultured knows about Harrison Ford and Mark Hamill."  
"Just coincidence," Ford said. He didn't seem to be worried Stiles was poking holes in their aliases, he almost seemed amused, like it was a challenge to trip Stiles up.  
"You're not FBI," Stiles said, shaking his head. "I dont know what you're doing here, but my dad's a cop, and impersonating an agent is a federal offence."  
That seemed to get to Ford, because he no longer looked amused.  
"Listen, kid," he said, holding a hand out to stop Stiles. "You're right, we aren't FBI."  
Stiles made a no duh face, his hand slapping at his thigh.  
"We're hunters," Hamill said. "I'm Sam, this is Dean."  
Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Hunters?"  
"Yeah, we hunt things," Dean nodded. "You seen anything strange lately?"  
"Like what? Deer walking the streets or a turkey?"  
"No," Dean sighed. "Like werewolves."  
Stiles blinked. He definitely wasn't expecting that.  
"Werewolves don't exist," Stiles said, shifting a bit in his seat.  
"They do," Sam said. "Most supernatural creatures you hear about are real."  
"And you hunt them?"  
"Yes," Dean nodded. "We heard about a pack living here."  
"You've heard about the animal attacks, havent you?" Sam asked.  
"Yeah, it was a mountain lion," Stiles said.  
"That's what most people think," Sam said. "You sure you haven't seen anything? A strange shape at night, maybe a strange person?"  
"Theres a curfew," Stiles said. "We can't be out at night. As for the strange people, you two are the only ones I can think of."  
Stiles decided now was a good time to leave. "I gotta go," he said, standing to his feet.  
He was almost worried they'd try to keep him there, but he walked out and to his car without a problem.  
"You think he's lying?" Sam asked once the two heard the jeep start up. Dean sighed, running a hand over his face.  
"I think he knows more than he's letting on."  
"So what now?"  
Dean gave a half shrug, standing up from the bed and walking to the mini fridge. "Keep an eye on him."


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was sitting at the hotel table, laptop open in front of him. Sam had taken the Impala to go to the local library, thinking they might have books on Beacon Hills.  
It had only been two hours when Dean heard the Impala pull up and he frowned. Usually a library trip took at least all day. The door beeped when the key card was inserted and Sam walked in empty handed.  
"What? No books?" Dean asked, his attention no longer on the laptop.  
"That's just it," Sam sighed, shutting the door behind him and shrugging out of his jacket. "Someone checked out every geographic and historic book they had on Beacon Hills, and lore."  
"Someone checked out books on Beacon Hills and werewolf lore?" Dean asked unbelieving  
"Not just werewolf lore," Sam said, still frowning. "The books on skinwalkers and chimeras are gone too."  
"Seems we have another hunter in Beacon Hills," Dean sighed, reaching for the phone on the table.  
"Or it's that sheriff's kid," Sam added. Dean nodded, dialing Bobby's number and holding the phone to his ear.  
"Dean?"  
"Hey, Bobby," Dean greeted, leaning back in the wooden chair. "Do you know if there's another hunter here?"  
"Well," Bobby sighed, thinking for a second. "Theres a retired hunter, settled down with his family not that long ago. Argent I think it was."  
"Thanks, Bobby."  
"No problem," Bobby said.  
When Dean hung up, Sam looked at him expectantly.  
"Theres a hunter here, or a family of hunters. Bobby said they're retired but if they got word of a pack living here they might be working the case."  
"So let's go talk to them," Sam suggested.  
*-*  
The two had gotten the address from the deputy at the front desk of the station They lived on the south side of Beacon Hills, not that far from the hotel the Winchesters were staying at.  
It was late in the afternoon when they got to the Argent house. Sam and Dean decided against the FBI gig and instead knocked on the front door in their casual clothes.  
It took a moment before the door opened, revealing a woman with short red hair and a scowl that put Bobby to shame.  
"Can I help you?" She asked, her voice not much better. She put Sam on edge. He shifted his weight from one side to the other.  
"Hi, I'm Dean, and this is my brother, Sam," Dean introduced, pointing a finger over his shoulder at Sam. "We heard-"  
"You're Winchesters?" The woman interrupted.  
"Yes, ma'am," Dean nodded. The woman ushered the two in quickly, shutting the door behind them. Dean couldn't lie, the woman was scary.  
"Come with me, my husband is in the garage," she said over her shoulder. "My name's Victoria."  
"Nice to meet you," Sam gave a nervous smile. "Sorry to bother you-"  
"You're not a bother," Victoria interrupted again. "We've heard a lot about you two."  
She opened the door to the garage, nodding for them to walk in first.  
"Chris, we have visitors," Victoria called. Dean and Sam entered the garage to see two dark SUVs parked on either side. The far wall was covered from floor to ceiling with weapons ranging from knifes and arrows to assault rifles and grenade launchers. Dean looked at the wall in amazement and envy.  
In the middle of the garage was a small group of men, all huddled around a short card table. The older one looked up, looking Sam and Dean over before stepping away from the table to meet them.  
"Who are you?" He asked.  
"Sam and Dean Winchester. We heard about your werewolf problem and came to help."  
Chris shook each boy's hand.  
"Werewolves aren't our priority right now," Chris said evenly. "But we appreciate any help we can get."  
*-*  
Stiles had texted Derek and Scott about an hour ago about needing to talk, but neither had responded. He was getting antsy.  
"You okay, Stiles?"  
Stiles jumped, nearly falling out of his seat before looking up and seeing Noah leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom.  
"Fine," Stiles said, swallowing thickly. "Just, waiting for Scott."  
"I saw him on my way home. Looked like he was in a hurry," Noah said with a half shrug.  
"Where was he going?"  
"Looked like he was going home."  
Stiles nodded, fringing aloofness.  
"Hey, when are you going to return those library books?" Noah asked, nodding to the stack of books on the desk next to his laptop. "You've had them for two months."  
"Oh, uh, today?" Stiles glanced at the books before looking at Noah.  
He had gotten a couple books on werewolves when Scott got bit, then a couple books on Beacon Hills after Lydia turned psycho and when Jackson turned into a Kanima he got a few more. He hadn't really had time to worry about returning them.  
Stiles took the jeep and headed for Scott's house when there was still no answer from either Scott or Derek. He was just about to turn onto his street when something slammed into his hood. It was Jackson- or the Kanima. It crawled up the top of the jeep and jumped off the back.  
"Shit!" Stiles cursed, making a u-turn and following after it. He pulled his phone out and called Scott.  
"Come on, pick up your phone," Stiles begged, chasing the Kanima towards the school. The phone rang to voicemail and Stiles cursed again.  
He tried calling Derek. The Kanima scaled the high school building, disappearing over the top.  
"Stiles?" Derek answered. Stiles let out a breath of relief.  
"Derek! The kanima is at the school!"  
He was already pulling the wooden bat out of the back of the jeep as he spoke.  
"I can't get ahold of Scott," he added.  
"I'm on my way. Stay put," Derek ordered. Stiles hung up, running towards the school. He knew the front doors would be locked so he ran around to the lacrosse field, using the locker room door to get inside.  
The hallways were dark and quiet, which made Stiles more anxious than he would've been if he was looking for the Kanima in the day.  
He decided to clear the high school by floors. He hoped Jackson was on the second floor, so hopefully he didn't run into him until Derek got there.  
He was nearing the gymnasium when he heard a low guttural hiss. Stiles froze, shoulders tensing and breathing ragged. He gripped the bat tightly, holding it up by his shoulder. He glanced down the hallway, then behind him, but saw nothing.  
He braved a step forward, making sure not to make a sound. He listened intensely, then took another step.  
He just reached the double doors to the gym when a loud bang made Stiles nearly yelp. He looked into the gymnasium from the window, seeing a tail slither into the pool room.  
"Come on, Derek, where are you?" Stiles breathed.


	5. Chapter 5

"So this, Kanima," Dean said. "Its controlled by someone?"  
"Yes," Chris said. "A kanima wants a master. Whoever its master is is the one who wanted these people killed."  
"Do you have any idea who the Kanima is?" Sam asked.   
"Jackson Wittemore," Chris supplied. "Hes a high school student, co-captain of the Lacrosse team."  
"What makes you think he's the Kanima?" Dean asked.   
"I've keep an eye out for long enough to notice when someone's not acting right, and since the Kanima has surfaced, Jackson's been unusually skittish."  
"So what's the game plan?" Dean asked.   
The group hunkered down and set out a plan. Sam and Dean would go to the school, the arcade and bowling alley, Chris and two of his men would go to the station, the vet clinic and the hospital. The other two would patrol and report.   
Chris made sure to give Sam a map of the city, marking which location the Winchesters were in charge of before everyone began packing for the mission.   
"How did you get into hunting?" Sam asked, helping Chris load the weapons into one of the SUVs.   
"Its a tradition in my family," Chris said with a shrug. "The Argents have been hunting werewolves since they first popped up. Werewolves are our specialty, but we've hunted vampires, a couple ghouls and a Nogitsune."  
"Nogitsune?" Dean asked. He had heard of a kitsune, hunted one or two in their time as hunters.   
"Japanese spirit that feeds off of chaos and fear." Chris frowned. "I only saw it once."  
"What happened?" Sam pressed lightly.   
"The only thing that can kill a nogitsune are called Oni, and they'll kill anyone who gets in their way to get to the spirit."  
Dean shoved a rifle into the bed of the truck, paying close attention to Chris' story.   
"I was just a kid when it happened. The Oni killed almost everyone, including the Nogitsune."  
"Remind me to never mess with these Oni people," Dean huffed, shaking his head.   
"What about you?" Chris asked, changing the subject. "How'd you get into the life?"  
"A demon killed our mom," Sam said. "Our dad wanted to hunt it down and just picked up the hunting life style."  
"He made you hunt?" Chris asked surprised.   
"Its all we've known," Dean said with a shrug. Chris frowned a bit at that, not at all liking that.   
"How could a father knowingly put his children in danger like that?"  
Dean just shrugged. Sam was about to respond when the garage door opened and a teenage girl walked in.   
"Hey, dad? I was wondering if I-" she stopped, looking at everyone.   
"Hey, sweety," Chris smiled. "What do you need?"  
"I was wondering if I could spend the night at Lydia's?"  
"There's a curfew honey, I dont think that's a good idea."  
The girl's shoulders sagged a bit before nodding.   
"What's going on?" She asked.   
"Just selling guns sweet heart. We should be back later tonight," he lied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now go inside, I'll see you in the morning."  
She nodded and walked out of the garage, shutting the door behind her.   
"That's Allison, my daughter," Chris said, nodding at the door she just closed.   
"She doesnt know?" Sam asked a little surprised. Chris just shook his head.   
"She thinks I'm a weapons specialist," he said. "I want her to live a normal life for as long as she can."  
Dean couldn't lie, he felt a little envious of the teenager. She was so blissfully ignorant.   
*-*  
Stiles pushed the door open, slipping into the gym and gripping the bat in shaky hands. He stuck close to the wall, keeping his steps light.   
He wished he had more than a bat to protect him from Jackson. He remembered being paralyzed, how helpless he felt just lying there on the floor. His palms were slick with sweat.   
He reached the door to the locker room, knowing the pool room was just a room away. He just had to pass the showers.   
Stiles looked up in the rafters of the locker room, around every row of lockers and peeked into the showers before he reached the door to the pool room.   
He pulled the door open and stepped inside. The moment he did something pushed him into the wall, a hand grabbing at his shirt.   
"Whoa, whoa!" Stiles yelped, raising his hands up.   
"What the hell, Stiles!" Derek snapped, letting his shirt go. Stiles dropped onto the heels of his feet, taking a deep breath. "I thought I told you to stay put!"  
"Did you see Jackson?" Stiles asked, ignoring Derek. Derek furrowed his brows in confusion as Stiles looked around the pool.   
"No," Derek said.   
"I saw him go in here, he has to be in here," Stiles said, stepping around Derek to get a better look at the room. He held the bat down at his leg, stepping up to the edge of the pool. He looked up into the rafters, squinting into the dimness.   
"Stiles, look out!" Before Stiles could turn around Derek was tackling him, arms grabbing at Stiles' middle. The two went face first into the pool.   
Stiles swam up to the surface first, coughing with wide eyes as he searched frantically for the Kanima.   
He spotted it at the edge of the pool, hissing and pacing. Stiles then looked around the pool, worry gripping his chest when he realized Derek hadn't come up yet.   
"Derek?" He looked down, seeing the vague shape of the werewolf at the bottom of the pool. Stiles took a breath and dived into the water.   
The chlorine burned his eyes, the pressure hurting his ears. He got to Derek, grabbing whatever he could reach before pulling him to Stiles' chest and kicking to the surface.   
When they both broke the surface, they gasped for air.   
"Did he get you?" Stiles asked, holding Derek up with one arm as he waded with the other.   
"Yeah," Derek growled out. Stiles looked at the Kanima, who was still pacing the water with a snarling face.   
"I don't think it likes the water," Stiles said, a bit relieved.   
"So what?" Derek snapped. "It can wait us out."  
"Scott will come," Stiles said. He hoped. Until Scott came for them, Stiles would just have to keep the both of them afloat.


	6. Chapter 6

"Can you move at all?" Stiles groaned out. It had been so long since they'd fallen into the pool and Stiles was having a hard time keeping the two up.   
"Do you think we'd be in this pool if I could move?" Derek snapped, spitting water out of his mouth. Stiles was exhausted, he didn't know how much longer he could hold them both up.   
Stiles looked around the pool, looking up into the rafters before turning to Derek.   
"I think he's gone," he said, hopeful. He slowly made his way to the edge of the pool, reaching up to grab onto the starting block.   
He had just grabbed a hold of it when the Kanima jumped down from out of nowhere, swiping at Stiles' hand with his talons.   
Stiles yelped, letting go and dropping under the water. He momentarily let go of Derek, but quickly got ahold of him, swimming the two back to the surface.   
"He's not gone," Stiles gasped out, swimming back to the middle of the pool.   
"Really? I didn't notice!" Derek growled.   
"Hey, don't get sarcastic with me," Stiles frowned. "I'm the one keeping you from drowning."  
"Yeah. And when the paralysis wears off, who is gonna be able to fight that thing, you or me?" Derek asked, glaring at Stiles. "You need me to survive, which is why you're not letting me drown."  
"You seriously don't trust me?" Stiles asked incredulously, struggling to keep the two afloat. Stiles had to be honest, that hurt a bit. After all the shit they went through in the past few months, and Derek still didn't trust Stiles?  
Derek said nothing. Stiles set his jaw, getting a better hold of Derek and beginning to swim back to the starting blocks.   
"What are you doing?" Derek asked, sounding a little alarmed.   
"I can't hold us up much longer," Stiles snapped. "I need something to hold onto."  
He grabbed onto the starting block, giving his legs a much needed break. He looked around, making sure the Kanima didn't try to cut him again. All he needed now was to get paralyzed while trying to keep Derek from drowning.   
Stiles was really starting to hate Scott. It had been at least 2 hours since he called Scott, and the werewolf was still nowhere to be seen. If he was with Allison, Stiles was gonna neuter him.   
They stayed like that for another 20 minutes before Derek began moving. It was slow, but the venom was wearing off.   
"Wrap your arms around my shoulders," Stiles demanded. Derek's movements were slow and looked a little painful, but he managed to get one arm over Stiles' shoulder.   
Now the two were chest to chest. Stiles kept his arm around Derek in case he wasn't strong enough to hold on.   
Derek didn't say anything when Stiles' chin dropped onto his shoulder out of exhaustion. The cool water made him shiver, and he was sure his lips were turning blue.   
"Its coming back," Derek warned. Stiles looked up, seeing the Kanima walking towards them on all fours.   
"I can't swim anymore," Stiles said, beginning to panic. He looked at his hand holding the starting block, then at the Kanima.   
Just as the Kanima was getting close enough to swipe at Stiles' hand the door to the locker room slammed open.   
The Kanima spun around, letting out a loud screech.   
"Oh, God," Stiles gasped, seeing the hunters walking in. The kanima charged at them.   
"Get me out of the pool," Derek demanded, grabbing the edge of the pool. Stiles nodded, keeping an eye on the two hunters fighting the Kanima.   
"You gotta leave, Derek," Stiles said, pushing at Derek. He got his top half onto the ground. "Those are hunters."  
Derek said nothing, instead rolling onto his back and letting out a breath. Stiles pulled himself up, dropping onto the ground beside Derek.   
"We gotta go," he gasped out. His arms and legs were exhausted, he could barely hold himself up.   
Derek pulled himself up onto the starting block, his body still feeling the paralyzing effects of the Kanima venom.   
The hunters were keeping the Kanima pretty occupied, but Stiles knew they still had to get out of there.   
"Dean," Sam called a warning. Stiles' head shot up, eyes wide to see the Kanima jumping at Dean. The shorter hunter dropped, the Kanima flew over his head, dropping onto the ground and sliding a bit.   
"Oh, shit," Stiles swore when the Kanima locked eyes on Stiles and Derek. It started running towards them. "Shit, shit, shit, Derek! We gotta go, get up, get up!"  
Stiles got to his feet, grabbing Derek under the arms and hauling him to his feet. He wouldnt have been able to lift him on his own, but Derek was getting feeling back in his limbs and helped get himself up.   
That wasn't enough. The two tumbled to the ground, but Sam was already running after the Kanima, knife in hand. Stiles eyes widened and he reached for Derek again, ready to pick him back up when the Kanima swiped at Derek's leg, slicing through his wet jeans and skin. Derek let out a growling yell, head falling back in pain. Stiles grabbed at Derek's shirt and yanked. Sam got to them just as the Kanima swung at Stiles, missing the kid by an inch.   
Sam sank the blade deep into Jackson's back, right between the shoulder blades. Dean came next, using a second knife and burying it into Jackson's neck. The Kanima howled in pain, dropping to the ground. Stiles thought he was gonna be sick. He dropped to his back, gasping for air.   
"Come on, kid, let's go," Sam said, standing over Stiles. He grabbed Stiles by the shirt, hauling him to his feet.   
Derek let out a pained growl. Stiles turned to see Dean had grabbed a bit of rope from his pocket and had wrapped it around Derek's wrists. It burned the skin and Stiles' eyes widened.   
"That's wolfsbane," he realized, watching Dean pull Derek to his feet. Sam still held onto Stiles, keeping him from leaving. "That's poisonous!"  
"Let's go," Dean said instead. Stiles pushed for Derek, but Sam held him tightly, nearly dragging Stiles out of the pool room.   
He looked back, the Kanima skin had disappeared. Jackson laid there motionless, blood pooling around him and dripping into the water.   
Stiles gagged. Sam fought him to stay standing when Stiles' knees gave out, but let him fall when he realized how sick he was.   
"I'll meet you at the car," Dean said, moving past. Derek was grunting in pain, his legs still not really working. Dean was almost holding him up. Derek was defenceless.   
Stiles threw up, body shivering. Tears burned his eyes. He didnt know if he was shivering from the cold or out of shock. His stomach churned and he threw up again.   
Sam wrapped an arm around his chest, picking him up again. Stiles wiped his mouth on his wet sleeve, his feet moving like lead.   
"You killed him," Stiles gasped out. He wasn't supporting his own weight, and would've fallen to the ground again if Sam hadn't kept an arm around his torso. "You killed Jackson."


	7. Chapter 7

Sam had dragged Stiles outside of the school and towards the Impala parked near his jeep. Dean had dropped Derek into the back seat of the Impala, slamming the door shut and walking up to meet Sam and Stiles.   
"Thought you said werewolves arent real," Dean said with a raised eyebrow. Stiles glared at him, yanking his arm out of Sam's grip.   
"If you hurt Derek I swear to God, you'll regret it," Stiles threatened, looking up at Dean.   
"You're on the wrong side, Stiles," Sam said, staying behind Stiles in case the kid decided to bolt.   
"No, you are," Stiles glared over his shoulder. "You're out numbered. Derek's pack will come for him and when they do you're gonna wish you never stepped foot in Beacon Hills."  
Dean only looked amused. Stiles set his jaw. Doyle, Erica, Issac and Scott would come looking for Derek, and when they did Sam and Dean wouldn't stand a chance.   
"Call Chris, tell him the Kanima is in the pool room," Dean said, looking from Stiles to Sam.   
"What about him?" Sam asked, gesturing to Stiles. Stiles kept a brave front, glaring at Dean the whole time and schooling his labored breathing.   
"He'll have to come along," Dean said. Stiles wouldn't have left Derek anyway. If they let him go, he would follow in the jeep.   
Stiles got into the back with Derek. He was breathing heavily and grimacing. Stiles had to sit with Derek's head in his lap, the werewolf not being able to really move.   
"You should've ran," Derek said through gritted teeth. Sam and Dean got into the front seat. Sam was on the phone, talking about Jackson like he wasn't a teenager they murdered. Sure, Jackson was a grade A asshole, and yeah Stiles had agreed to Derwk killing him, but that was a last resort thing. They hadn't found a cure yet.   
"You do anything and I'll throw you into the trunk, got it?" Dean threatened, turning to look at Stiles. Stiles only nodded.   
Derek's skin on his wrists sizzled and burned red where the rope held him. Usually he would be able to break the rope, but because of the last bit of venom in his system and the fact that it was doused in wolfsbane made Derek weak.   
Stiles wished his phone worked, but spending so long in the pool with it in his back pocket destroyed it. He wanted to call Scott, or even his dad. Would this be considered voluntary kidnapping?   
"When they stop, jump out of the car and run," Derek said quietly, looking up at Stiles. "Find Scott."  
"I'm not leaving you," Stiles said just as quietly. Derek's eyebrows furrowed.   
"Why?" He asked. Stiles glanced out the window, trying to figure out where they were going.   
"They're hunters," Stiles answered. "They'll kill you. I'm not gonna leave."  
"What can you do?" Derek asked. They passed the welcome sign, meaning they were leaving Beacon Hills.   
"I dont know," Stiles confessed. "But friends don't leave friends to die."  
*-*  
Sam and Dean had taken the werewolf and Stiles to an abandoned barn about a mile outside of town.   
Stiles didn't fight when Dean pulled his arm to get him out of the car, nor did he try to run when he walked Stiles into the barn.   
Stiles set his jaw at the set up. There were two car batteries sitting on the floor, both had jumper cables running from them to a metal rod drilled to the barn wall. The rod was rusted and looked like it had been there a long time.   
Sam brought Derek to the set up and used metal handcuffs to cuff him to the rod.   
"You came prepared," Stiles snapped, disgusted as Dean brought him to a wooden pillar on the other side of the barn.   
"Sit," Dean said, ignoring his comment. Stiles didn't move, so Dean grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him to the ground.   
"My dad will know I'm missing," Stiles warned. "Don't think I wont tell him who you are!"  
"Your dad knows who we are," Dean said evenly, kneeling behind Stiles and retching his arms back.   
"As for him knowing you're missing," he added, tying Stiles' wrists tightly around the pillar. "He's not going to notice."  
"The pack will," Stiles said. Dean stood back up, moving to squat in front of Stiles.   
"I'm counting on it, kid," he grinned. Stiles glared at him, kicking at the hay floor by Dean's feet and tugging at his bindings.   
"Just sit tight," Dean said, standing again. "We don't want to hurt you, but we don't want you in the way either."  
*-*  
It hadn't been more than three minutes of talking when Dean pulled a blade on Derek. Stiles watched helplessly as Dean cut into Derek's chest, ripping through the shirt he wore and making the werewolf grit his teeth.   
The wound healed and Dean asked again, "where is your pack."  
Stiles tugged at the restraights, the rope cutting deeply into his skin. Dean sure knew how to tie a knot.   
When Derek didnt answer Dean cut deeper. This went on for what felt like ages.   
Stiles tried talking the two out of it, tried threatening, bargaining, but nothing worked.   
Stiles kicked and pulled at the ropes when Dean reached for a water bottle beside one of the car batteries. It had little purple flowers inside.   
"No, stop, Dean don't!" Stiles shouted, watching him drip the wolfsbane water onto the knife. Derek kept a stony face.   
"Stop! You're gonna kill him!"   
Dean glanced back at Stiles, before looking up at Derek.   
"One last chance."  
Derek set his jaw. The knife dug into the flesh of Derek's shoulder and he let out a painful howl, his body tensing and shaking. His breaths came out in growled huffs as he tried to fight through the pain. Dean let the knife stay there.   
"Tell me where the rest of the pack is," Dean demanded.   
"Bite me," Derek growled, teeth sharp and eyes a deep red.   
Stiles pulled at his wrists again.   
"Stop, Dean I swear to God I'll kill you if you hurt him!" He yelled. He couldn't watch Derek get hurt, and he knew Derek would die before he told Sam and Dean where the others were.   
Dean still didn't respond to Stiles, barely acknowledged him. Instead he looked over at Sam and nodded once. Stiles' eyes widened.   
"Wait! I know where they are!" Stiles shouted before Sam could turn on the batteries.   
"Stiles," Derek growled. "Don't."  
Dean walked over to where Stiles sat and cocked an eyebrow. "Please, share with the class."  
Stiles' breathing was labored, and he looked from Derek to Dean before speaking.   
"You'll have to let us go first," Stiles said. Dean cocked an eyebrow.   
"I dont think so," he said a bit in amusement.   
"Stiles, don't tell them anything," Derek demanded, glaring at Stiles, who was borderline hyperventilating.   
"That's my deal," Stiles continued. "Let us go and you'll get the pack."  
"You think I'm new to this?" Dean asked, kneeling in front of Stiles and scowling.   
"I think you're in over your head and out numbered," Stiles countered.   
The two locked eyes, each one willing the other to break.   
"We don't have time for this," he huffed, standing to his feet. "Turn it on."  
"No!"  
Sparks from the jumper cable clamps lit up the space around Derek, a current of electricity running through his body.   
He sneered, not making a sound and convulsing where he stood. When it stopped Derek sagged, gasping for breath.   
"We can do this all night," Dean warned. "Tell me where your pack is and I'll kill you quick."  
Derek looked up, eyes first locking on Stiles, who looked about ready to cry, then up at Dean.   
"No."


	8. Chapter 8

Dean and Sam had left not long ago, not getting anywhere with Derek. Stiles took that time trying to untie himself. Derek was slumped forward, breathing heavy.   
Stiles got one of the loops loose enough to pull his hand through, the rope pulling and irritating his skin as he rotated his hand back and forth until the rope was off.   
He quickly pulled his arms forward, wincing at the muscles in his shoulders. He tugged the other rope off before jumping to his feet and running to where Derek stood.   
"Hey, hey, Derek," Stiles whispered quickly. Derek lifted his head, not saying a word.   
"Okay, I'm gonna get you out of here, just hold on."  
He grabbed the bomber jacket sitting next to the battery packs, rifling through the pockets and grabbing the keys to the hand cuffs.   
He scrambled back to Derek, uncuffing one hand. Derek slumped forward and growled a bit in pain at the knife still lodged in his shoulder.   
Stiles uncuffed the second one and quickly wrapped an arm around Derek's middle.   
"We gotta go," Stiles said, heading for the back of the barn.   
"Just, set me down," Derek said. "Over there."  
"What? No we have to leave!" Stiles whisper yelled.   
"Trust me," Derek grunted. Stiles hesitated before carrying Derek over to a small stall. He helped Derek onto the floor before squatting in front of him.   
"What now?" Stiles asked breathlessly. Derek grabbed at the knife embedded in his shoulder and yanked it out. Stiles had to look away to keep from being sick.   
"Now we be quiet," Derek said. Stiles didn't think this plan was gonna work, but he nodded and sat down. Derek handed the knife to Stiles.   
"If they see us, use this."  
"I can't kill anyone-"  
"Not kill," Derek interrupted. "Swipe it at them, hurt them if you have to."  
Stiles swallowed thickly, his knuckles white around the knife.   
"Where'd they go?" Stiles heard. He stopped breathing, going rigged.   
"Damn kid broke through the rope," Dean sneered.   
"The werewolf was pretty hurt, I don't think they got far, let's go," Sam said. Derek and Stiles held their breath as Dean cursed and followed his brother out of the barn.   
Neither one moved for a few minutes. "Okay, let's go," Derek said, getting to his feet. Stiles did as well, the two rushing out of the barn.   
It was dark out, and Stiles stumbled over sticks and holes. Derek was still hurt from the wolfsbane, but now that the blade was out, Stiles knew he would start to heel soon.   
"How are we going to get back into town?" Stiles asked, having to jog to keep up with Derek. "We're a mile away."  
"We're not going to town," Derek said.   
"Where are we going?" Stiles asked.   
Derek didn't say anything, the two making their way west. They reached the East Hills river that cut through part of Beacon Hills and Derek jumped in, the water reaching his hips.   
Stiles followed, not as gracefully. He ended up sliding in and dropping under water. He stood up and sputtered. "I'm okay," he said.   
"Didn't ask," Derek commented, wading through the waist deep water. Stiles glowered, following behind.   
After a while, the water got deeper and the two had to swim. Stiles grumbled, still not fully rested from their first swim today, but he kept up with Derek.   
When they reached Beacon Hills, the two climbed out of the water. They were right by the high school.   
"Do you still have your keys?" Derek asked quietly, the two of them hidden in someone's back yard.   
Stiles fished through his pocket, pulling out the keys and holding them up for Derek to see.   
The two stayed low, running across the yard and into the school parking lot. They both got into the jeep, Stiles starting it and pulling out of the driveway.   
"Where are we going?" Stiles asked.   
"My house," Derek said. Stiles only nodded, driving back out of town. The Hale house was just near the woodland pond, buried deep in the wildlife preserve.   
Stiles didn't relax until they passed the last neighborhood, the road turning into dirt. Stiles knew the way to the Hale house, he could drive there with his eyes closed.   
When he reached it, he pulled around the back of the house, cutting the engine and looking at Derek.   
"Its the safest place I could think of," Derek explained before stepping out of the vehicle. Stiles got out too, following Derek inside.   
Derek lead Stiles up the stairs to one of the only rooms with four walls and most of a roof.   
There was an old mattress on the floor with a sleeping bag and a flat pillow. Stiles blinked, looking from the bed to Derek. Had Derek been sleeping like this the whole time?  
Derek walked to the cardboard box, lighting a candle before turning to Stiles.   
"You can sleep on the bed," he sighed. "I'll take you home in the morning when it's safe."  
Stiles nodded mutely, scuffling over to the bed and sitting down. Derek also sat down, his back leaning against the charred wall beside the mattress.   
Stiles frowned a bit. "What?" Derek asked with a sigh.   
"You could've left without me," Stiles said softly. "When I got you out, you didn't have to take me with you. Why?"  
Derek didn't say anything for a long moment, and Stiles had just decided he wasn't planning on it when Derek did.  
"Scott would've bit my head off if I let you die," he said. "Plus, now we're even."  
Stiles looked down at his feet, picking at the skin around his nails. "Get some sleep."  
Stiles didn't know why he was hurt by that answer. He didn't know what he wanted to hear, but he was disappointed and a bit hurt when Derek gave him an answer.   
He laid down on the bed, not getting in the sleeping bag. The pillow smelt like the woods, mixed with a smell Stiles had occasionally sniffed when Derek was around.   
Derek stayed awake, waiting for Stiles' breathing to even out. He let his head rest against the wall, allowing his body to heal itself as he thought.   
Why had Stiles risked his life for Derek? Derek was under the assumption Stiles hated him. It confused Derek and made him think about all of their previous interactions. Stiles had always seemed put off by Derek, distant and untrusting. Why'd Stiles stay? The kid couldn't do anything to protect himself, let alone keep Derek from harm.


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles woke up with a start, eyes wide as he took in the room around him. Yesterday hit him all at once, the pool, Sam and Dean, Jackson's blood seeping into the pool water, Derek hurt. He sat up in the bed, leaning forward and holding his head as he breathed.   
He got up a moment later, the fear and sadness of yesterday turning into panic. His phone was damaged. His dad would be worried sick right now, and Stiles had no way of calling him to let him know he was okay.   
Stiles exited the room quickly, skipping down the stairs and heading for the hole in the back of the house.   
"Where are you going?" Stiles yelped, jumping and spinning to see Derek walking towards him. He had new clothes on.   
"I'm going home," Stiles said, pointing a finger to his jeep over his shoulder. "My dad's probably worried."  
Derek nodded. "I'll come with you," he said. Stiles squinted in confusion, opening his mouth to say something, then closing it when Derek passed him. Stiles spun and followed after him, the two getting into the jeep.   
"What about the hunters?" Stiles asked as he pulled around the front of the house.   
"They won't do anything during the day, especially with so many people around," Derek assured. His assurance wasn't very reassuring to Stiles, but he drove back into town.   
They made it to Stiles' house without a problem, Stiles sneaking Derek into his bedroom. Once the two were safely inside, Stiles let out a breath of relief.   
"You can stay here," Stiles said, turning to Derek. "I'm gonna call my dad."  
Derek said nothing so Stiles left the room, bounding down the stairs and heading for the kitchen. Noah had an old wire phone on the wall, had been there since Stiles could remember.   
He picked up the phone and dialed the number for the station. While he waited he tapped at the wall with the tips of his fingers.   
"Beacon Hills sheriff's office, what's your emergency?" Griffin answered.   
"Hey, its Stiles," he answered. "Is my dad around?"  
"Stiles?" Griffin sounded surprised and relieved. "Your dad's been looking everywhere for you!"   
Stiles winced. He really worried his dad then.   
"Is he there?"  
"No, he's out looking for you," Griffin supplied. It made Stiles feel worse. "I'll call him in. Stay where you are."  
Stiles hung up and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't know what to do. He knew he was going to be in huge trouble, but he couldn't exactly say the FBI agents were hunters who kidnapped him, or that the reason he didn't call was because he had been keeping Derek from drowning while a Kanima tried to kill him.   
The thought of Jackson made Stiles' stomach roll again and he had to lean against the counter to keep from passing out.   
"You okay?"   
Stiles jumped, looking up to see Derek in the doorway with that always present scowl, only this time it looked a little more concerned.   
"I don't know," Stiles said honestly. "I don't know what to tell my dad, I don't know where Scott is, or what Sam and Dean are up to now, and Jackson-" he took a breath. "I don't know what to do."  
Derek stayed quiet for a moment. Always with the long waits with him. Stiles kind of hated it.   
"Don't worry about the hunters, or the pack," he finally said. "I'll take care of it. As for Jackson, I'm sure theres an elaborate story on what happened. And Scott is fine, he's probably with Allison."  
Stiles set his jaw. "If he is I'm going to kill him."  
Derek raised an eyebrow in question. "I called him three times last night," Stiles explained. "Out of the two of you, I expected you to be the one to ignore my calls."  
Derek didn't seem at all offended by the statement. He almost did ignore Stiles' call, but he was glad he had picked up.   
Derek made his way back to Stiles' room when he heard the sheriff's car pull into the driveway. He kept the door shut, but could heard everything down below.   
Stiles was pacing, biting at his nails. When the door opened he froze.   
"Stiles?"  
"I-in here," Stiles called out, his heart in his throat.   
Noah walked into the kitchen and grabbed Stiles by his shoulders, yanking him into a hug.   
Stiles hugged him back, digging his face into Noah's shoulder and breathing in the smell of his cologne.   
"Where have you been?" Noah demanded, pulling away quickly. "I was worried sick! I called you and you didn't pick up!"  
"My phone is broken," Stiles said softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."  
"You couldn't have used Scott's phone? Or come home last night?"  
Stiles bit his lip. He didn't know what to say.   
"I didn't think," he decided. "I was with Scott so I didn't think it was a big deal if I just stayed the night."  
Now Noah looked mad, and Stiles lowered his head, waiting for the punishment he knew he was going to get. But lying to Noah about last night was the safest thing Stiles could do for him.   
"Stiles, you have to tell me where you are," Noah said with a heavy sigh. "Especially now with a curfew! You could've been hurt or killed! I looked for you all night, Scott wasn't answering his phone, your other friends had no idea where you were!"  
"I know," Stiles said softly. "I'm sorry."  
"I'm sure you are," Noah said, sounding exhausted. "You're grounded. You go to school you come home. No TV, no Scott."  
Stiles didn't bother asking how long this grounding was going to be, instead he nodded and left the kitchen. He couldnt even look Noah in the eyes in fear that he'd tell him the truth.   
When he made it to his bedroom, Derek was still there, looking down at a picture on the desk. It was a picture of Stiles with his mom and dad, before she got sick. They were at a baseball game.   
"That's my mom," Stiles said, shutting the door behind him and sitting down on his bed. "She got sick a couple weeks after that picture was taken."  
Derek glanced at Stiles before looking back at the picture. "What did she have?" He asked.   
"Frontotemporal dementia," Stiles answered, wringing his hands together between his knees. "It destroys personality, language and behavior."  
Derek only nodded, sitting in the chair next to his bed.   
"You look like her," he commented.   
Stiles gave a small smile. "Yeah, that's what everyone says," he said. "I'm too much like her and not enough like him."  
"Why didn't you tell your dad about last night?" Derek asked, changing the subject. Stiles sighed, falling back onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling.   
"I don't want him to get hurt," Stiles said. "If he knew what those hunters did, or who they are, it'll put him in more danger than if he thought I was just being a teenager."  
Stiles let out another sigh. "Plus, I dont know how he'll take it if I told him supernatural creatures exist."


	10. Chapter 10

Stiles was right about them spinning a story about Jackson. That afternoon Stiles overheard Noah on the phone. One of the custodians found Jackson. School was canceled Monday and Tuesday while they investigated. Sam and Dean even showed up to help.   
By Wednesday the school was opened, but the pool room was locked.   
The other murders had been ruled as animal attacks, wolf or mountain lion. But with Jackson it was different. Jackson had been stabbed, not clawed.   
Stiles hadn't been able to talk to anyone since Sunday, so when he walked into school on Wednesday, he made sure to get ahold of Scott.   
The two snuck into the locker room, knowing it would be empty for at least two periods. Stiles barely had time to tell him what happened when Scott started accusing Derek.   
"It wasn't Derek," Stiles said.   
"How do you know?"  
"Brcause I was there."  
Scott looked surprised.   
"Derek was helping me find him, and we did, but Derek got hit and fell into the pool and I had to make sure he didn't drown, which is why my phone is broken," Stiles began, the two of them sitting on the bench between the rows of lockers.   
"Then the hunters came and one killed Jackson and took Derek and I outside of town to torture Derek into telling them where the pack was."  
Scott's brows were furrowed as he listened to Stiles' story. Stiles told him how the two escaped and stayed at Derek's, and how he tried calling but Scott never picked up.   
"I was looking for the cure," Scott explained in exhaustion. "My phone died."  
Stiles brushed it off.   
"I can't believe the Argents would do that, though," Scott continued in disbelief. "I didn't think they were the type to torture."  
"It wasn't the Argents," Stiles corrected. When Scott silently asked for an elaboration Stiles continued. "They're called the Winchesters. They're the best in the hunting business."  
"I've heard of them," Scott frowned in thought. "Derek mentioned them a bit ago, back when Kate first got here. I guess she worked with them while she was gone."  
"That's not the worst part though," Stiles said with a sigh.   
"What's worse than the Winchesters?"  
"Bobby told them to come," Stiles said. Stiles filled Scott in on the Winchesters pretending to be with the FBI, and how Stiles had called the number on the business card only to find out it was Bobby on the other end, also pretending to be FBI.   
"But Bobby comes over all the time!" Scott interjected.   
"I know!" Stiles ran a hand through his hair.   
"Do you think he told your dad? Does he know about werewolves too?"   
"I dont know," Stiles said. "I don't know what Bobby and him talk about when they visit, but my dad is always in a bad mood afterwords."  
"What are we gonna do?" Scott asked.   
"You guys have to lay low," Stiles said. "And I'm talking really low; you probably shouldnt come to school anymore."  
"Stiles," Scott huffed, amused. "I think it would be more suspicious if I stopped showing up to school."  
Stiles sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyebrows furrowing before he nodded in agreement. He reached a hand out and grabbed Scott's shoulder.   
"Okay but you have to promise me to lay low, no wolfing out."  
"I promise, Stiles," Scott said. Stiles nodded.   
"What about you?" Scott asked. "They know who you are, wont they be looking for you?"  
"I've got it under control," Stiles nodded. When Scott gave him a look, Stiles elaborated. "Your dad's with the FBI. If I threaten them with the real FBI, they might leave us alone."  
"What if they don't?"  
"If they don't I'll- I'll think of something."  
*-*  
"What are we going to do about that kid?" Sam asked. The boys had been looking everywhere for the werewolf and the sheriff's kid, but they were nowhere to be found.   
The sheriff didn't say anything to them when they ran into him at the school, which means the kid hadn't told him what Sam and Dean did. But that didn't mean he wouldn't.   
"What kid?" Chris asked, stepping up to the two boys.   
"Kid named Stiles," Dean grumbled out. "He helped one of the werewolves escape."  
"Oh, yeah, he's very popular around here," Chris said with a nod of his head. "Not only because he's the sheriff's kid either."  
"Let me guess," Dean sighed. "It has something to do with his supernatural friends."  
Chris smirked unamused and nodded. "Other hunters have called him the boy who runs with wolves. He's an honorary pack member of sorts, but we can't touch him."  
"Why not?" Sam asked confused.   
"Because we have a code," Chris said. "We don't hunt our own, and we don't kill children without provable cause."  
Dean loaded his pistol and slipped it into the wasteband of his jeans.   
"Our priority is Derek Hale," Chris continued, this time loud enough for the rest of the men in the room to hear. "We kill him, and if anyone gets in our way, we kill them too."  
Sam turned to Dean then, stepping up close to speak softly.   
"What are we going to do about Stiles?" He asked.   
"Let's talk to his dad," Dean said. "I'm sure he can keep the kid occupied until after tonight."  
Sam nodded, going back over to his side of the table and grabbing his own gun. Everyone was getting ready for tonight. They were planning on flushing Derek Hale out of his hiding spot, and hopefully the rest of the pack.   
"This pack isn't like normal packs we've hunted before," one man said beside the Winchesters.   
"They don't stay together."  
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.   
"Most packs live together," the guy said. "But Hale doesn't have his pack together. They all live separately, and they're rarely all in one spot."  
"I wonder why that is," Sam thought aloud.   
"I'm assuming it's because of the fire," the guy said with a shrug.   
"What fire?" Dean asked.   
"The Hale fire. Few years back someone set the Hale house on fire, killed the the whole pack. Only Derek and a couple others survived."  
"Who set the fire?"  
The man looked around before leaning in close. "Chris' sister, Kate."


	11. Chapter 11

"Just got a call from Allison," Scott informed. Stiles frowned, sitting up a little straighter in the chair and holding the phone to his ear.   
"What did she say?"  
Derek raised an eyebrow, looking over at Stiles from his spot on the chair beside the bed. He had showed up an hour ago after hunters got a little too close to the house for comfort.   
"She said her dad and a bunch of hunters are gearing up."  
"The Winchesters too?" Stiles asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.   
"Yeah, she said there were at least double the hunters that usually go out, which means-"  
"Yeah, I know what it means," Stiles sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, his leg bouncing as he thought of what to do.   
"Okay, just lay low, Derek is here. I'll go out and find everyone else and make sure they stay out of trouble."  
"Are you sure? If there are that many of them I don't think it's a good idea-"  
"I'm human," Stiles reminded him. "They can't touch me. I'll be okay."  
Stiles hung the phone up before Scott could say anything else and stood up.   
"I'll be right back," Stiles said, glancing at Derek as he made his way to the door. He had just pulled it upen when Derek's hand shot out and slammed it shut. Stiles turned towards him and was slammed into the door.   
"You're not going anywhere, Stiles," Derek growled out. Stiles' eyes were wide, his mouth partially open.   
"What?" Stiles breathed out. Derek didn't move his hand from Stiles' chest, keeping him pressed to the door. The two were too close for Stiles' liking.   
"Its too dangerous out there right now," Derek said.   
"I know," Stiles said, frowning a bit. "Which is why I have to get to Issac, Boyde and Erica."  
"They can take care of themselves," Derek snapped. "Going out there is asking for it."  
"Past experience proves that they can't take care of themselves!" Stiles said in exasperation. "Boyde maybe, but he sticks to Erica like glue and she's not exactly the poster child for being careful!"  
Stiles put his own hand on Derek's chest and pushed a little. Derek took a step back, giving Stiles a bit of room.   
"And as for Issac, he has zero experience with anything, and he's probably waiting for you to come back but you wont so he'll go find you and get killed!"  
"You done?" Derek asked.   
Stiles set his jaw. "Yeah, I'm done," he snapped, stepping away from the door and grabbing the wooden bat from beside his desk.   
"If you insist on going then I'm coming with you," Derek said, surprising Stiles to a halt. He blinked at Derek, opened his mouth to say something, then shutting it.  
"What?" He finally managed to ask. Derek pulled the door open.   
"You're going to get yourself killed going out there on your own."  
"But they're looking for you," Stiles reminded, pointing a finger losely at Derek, who stood at the door expectantly.   
"I can take care of myself," Derek said. "You, cannot."  
"Wha- I can too!"  
"You're bringing a wooden bat to a gun fight," Derek looked pointedly at the bat, then at Stiles.   
"I'm 17," Stiles said with a shrug. "I can't legally own a gun."  
*-*  
As Stiles predicted, Erica had found trouble, and Boyde was right there beside her. Stiles had driven the jeep to the high school, where the Argents and Winchesters were.   
"Stiles," Derek spoke just as Stiles was about to jump out of the car. He turned back to Derek with a frown.   
"What, what is it?"  
Derek reached forward so fast Stiles didn't have time to react. A pair of handcuffs were slapped on Stiles' wrist. Derek pulled his hand to the steering wheel and locked him to it.   
"Wait, Derek," Stiles yelped, eyes wide as he yanked at the cuffs. "What are you doing?"  
"You stay put," Derek demanded, jumping out of the jeep. Stiles tugged at the cuffs again.   
"Derek!"  
Derek didn't listen and ran head on into the high school, already picking up on Boyde and Erica's scent.   
The two were hiding in the locker rooms. Derek had passed by hunters, taking some of them out as he went.   
"What are you two doing here?" Derek snapped, kneeling in front of the two huddled on the floor.   
"We were hiding!" Erica snapped. "They came out of nowhere."  
Derek sighed, looking back at the door leading to the hallway.   
"We gotta go," Derek said. "Stiles is waiting outside with the jeep. We gotta get out of here."  
The two nodded. Derek stood and headed for the door, the other two quick on his heel.   
There were four hunters in the hallway. Derek and Boyde took on three of them, Erica fighting thr last one.   
Gun shots gave away their location and Derek growled, grabbing the gun by the barrel and ripping it out of the hunter's hand. He shoved him into the wall of lockers, knocking the human out before heading for the double doors.   
"Go!" Derek yelled, grabbing Boyde by the sleeve and pulling him forward. Erica took off with them, ducking as bullets flew through the air, embedding in the concrete walls.   
One managed to hit Erica in the shoulder. She yelped and dropped.   
"Erica!" Boyde stopped, turning around and going back for her. Derek growled, slamming through the double doors.   
Boyde and Erica were out seconds after him, and the three of them raced for the jeep.   
"Wait! Stop!" Stiles shouted, honking the horn. "Behind you!"  
It was too late. Derek felt the slug lodge itself into his arm just above his elbow. It burned. He dropped to his knee, clenching his teeth.   
"Come on, we gotta go," Boyde shouted, grabbing Derek by the arm and hauling him to his feet.   
The three ran for the jeep. Stiles started it with his left hand, having to resch across himself to get to the gear shift.   
"Hurry!"   
The door swung open. Erica and Derek climbed in first. The moment Boyde's foot hit the floor Stiles took off. Boyde fell into the seat, the door slamming shut.   
"Derek, you asshole!" Stiles shouted, speeding down the road. "You could've been killed! Why did you do that?"  
His hand was still cuffed to the steering wheel, and from the looks of his red and raw skin, he had tried to break free.   
"Um, guys?" Erica winced out. "Something's wrong with Derek."


	12. Not a chapter

Hey guys! So this book is being put on hold. I've lost the inspiration to write it, and I dont want to orphan it quite yet because I really like it!  
Please be patient with me I'll get my groove back soon -hopefully.


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